


the sweets

by andserenity



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Child Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Original Character Death(s), Permanent Injury, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15085436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andserenity/pseuds/andserenity
Summary: following the destructive fall of gotham city, jeremiah valeska comes across a child who reminds him a little too much of himself .





	the sweets

**Author's Note:**

> these are two very dear characters i've been writing with starting when i was 12 years old . since gotham now has an eerily similar storyline, i decided to intertwine their stories . it may or may not go anywhere - i really wanted to keep the focus on the sweet twins & eventually, when & how they will meet up again . c:

i. 

 

One picks the flowers 

 

[ the weeds ]

 

while one plays with the worms, with the families of snails littering the far corner of the park. Steely brown eyes watch the creatures slither along and an inquisitive mind wonders what would happen to the world if snails ceased to exist one day.

 

Would the world end? Would the animals die? Would the plants wilt?

 

Fingers close into a ball around a fistful of mud - she  _squeezes_  as hard as she can - 

 

A delicately crafted crown falls atop the girl’s head, courtesy of the  _slightly older_  sibling. A flower crown of bright yellow colours. A weedy crown of dandelions, made with love. The child squints up, watching the outline of the other move in the sun. Shiloh is a flower unto herself. Brighter than a clear summer sky. “Do you like it?” she says. 

 

Playfully, the girl tosses some of the soft dirt at her twin’s bare foot. “I like everything you make me,” she says with intense and serious sincerity. Dirty fingers poke at the flower heads, run along the sticky stems which cling to the strands of her unkempt hair. 

 

She’s a  _queen_. 

 

Shiloh takes a knee beside her sister, beaming. Begins sculpting the mud before them into a circular shape - surely the beginnings of a homemade mud pie, garnished with blades of grass. “I’ll make you something else, then,” she says. A gentle breeze blows past the twins; they smile at one another as if on cue. 

 

A comfortable silence falls between them. An unspoken bond only the closest of humans can hope to experience. It’s getting late - mom will worry, they know. There will be hell to pay. Yet as long as there is two of them,  **always** , home is not such a scary place. 

 

Shiloh is so taken with her latest craft, she doesn’t even notice when Mia begins to crush the tiny snails in one tightly closed fist. 

 

ii.  

 

She stumbles into their room, one hand on her chest, the other covering her mouth. Eyes wide and filled with shock, Shiloh shuts the door behind her before falling to her knees and letting out a  _sob_. Shiloh is a crybaby, as she’s affectionately called. She cries constantly. The smallest thing can set her off. 

 

Mia acts quickly and without a second of hesitation. Comic book discarded, she’s wrapped around her sister in the fiercest of hugs, the most protective of positions. Like the shell of a turtle 

 

[ or a snail ]

 

she’s determined to keep the soft, squishy little person hiding beneath her  **safe**. 

 

“I’m here.” A mumble of reassurance. Shiloh is crying hysterically in the girl’s arms, appearing tinier than Mia’s ever remembered her being. Though they’re the same age and similar in many respects - she’s never felt as if Shiloh were a baby until now. If Mom couldn’t be a proper mom, then  _she_  would have to do it for her. 

 

Her head is pressed firmly against Mia’s shoulder. “She hit me.” A tiny, wounded whisper in the child’s ear. Ashamed. A confession. The belief she’s done something wrong; she’s done something to  _deserve_  being hurt. 

 

Mia’s world changes after the utterance of those three simple words. 

 

Shiloh soon calms. Her twin lets her wipe her snot and tears on her shoulder, lets her stay in bed with her when they settle down to sleep. Mia’s fingers run through the dark and tangled locks of her sister, lulling her into what one could hope is a happy dreamlike state. The faintest of bruises begins to bloom along her jawline, black and ugly. Mia kisses it. 

 

“I’ll kill her.” The words are spoken into the quiet of the night. Shiloh is fast asleep, snoring. Mia reassures her of this anyway; both of them. A solemn vow takes root in her heart and refuses to let go. Nothing she grabs a hold of ever manages to get away unscathed. “I promise.” 

 

Satisfied with her resolve, the child is able to fall into a short but restful slumber. Mom will never touch Shiloh again and live to tell the tale. She’ll cut her old heart out and replace it with something hard and indestructible - with room only for her twin and no one else. 

 

iii. 

 

The Sweet family has seen  _him_  on the TV for years, for as long as the kids can remember. He makes Mia laugh. Shiloh hides behind her mother, who covers her eyes with her hands. That voice follows her when she steps foot outside each morning to walk to school. That smile glows behind her eyes when she falls asleep at night. 

 

Awful and terrible things lurk outside the door of their apartment. Things Mom can’t explain, doesn’t want to explain. Things, Shiloh muses, she won’t understand now or as an adult. 

 

Now there’s another one. 

 

iv.

 

“Come here.” 

 

Mom’s voice is sharp as a knife -  **panicked**. Its far more frightening than hearing her angry voice. A jolt of fear passes between each of the twins; their hands join immediately, and even Mia’s palm is sweaty in Shiloh’s grip. They approach silently, bare feet tiptoeing down the hallway. The sun is hiding behind the clouds - another gloomy day in Gotham. 

 

The keys are in one of her hands, a cigarette in the other. They both shake. She’s fumbling to undo the door chain. “Shoes. Coat.  _Hurry up_.” 

 

“Where are we going?” Shiloh questions but her words are swept up and lost in the ensuing frantic moments.  Shiloh’s shoes. Mia’s coat. Mia’s shoes. Shiloh’s coat. The buttons aren’t buttoning - !! The woman drops to her knees,  _falls_. It’s so cold outside, she needs to stay warm or else - 

 

“ _Fuck_!” Voice breaks. Mom drags Shiloh by the elbow out the door. Mia doesn’t interrupt but follows. Her shoelace loosens as they leap down the stairs. She looks at Shiloh - her fingers shake so impossibly hard she can never hope to button her coat up now. 

 

Gotham rumbles with panic and confusion just outside these walls. It feels like the world is being swallowed up by something evil. 

 

The cool air washes across their faces; Mia is holding her sister’s hand tighter than ever before. Mom looks closer to tears than ever before. The sun is trying to shine but the clouds won’t let it. It seems the whole world knows something the children do not. And as usual, they are merely swept up in the chaos unknowingly but aware all the same - a m o n s t e r is loose on the streets. 

 

Shiloh hears that laugh, sees that smile behind her eyes. It doesn’t seem so scary all of a sudden. Not compared to  _him_  who follows. 

 

“Let’s go.” Mom tugs the twins along behind her, stumbling into the frenzied street, where people scream, where they begin to run. 

 

v.

 

A sound like a rocket - what Mia imagines a rocket to sound like. A flash of light; the very earth seems to split. 

 

Then a  _boom_

_boom_ _boom_

_boom_

 

vi.

 

 

Black snow falls from the sky. The taste of metal in her mouth, broken pieces of the ground. Dirt and blood. Her own well-being is in the back of her mind, not given a moment of thought. 

 

 _Shiloh_. 

 

Her legs don’t work; Mia’s arms just barely manage to pull her small form across the pavement a couple inches to the left. She throws herself across the tiny body. There’s screams in the distance, and a scream right in her ear. It takes a few moments for her to realize its her own screams, not Shiloh’s - Shiloh hasn’t made a sound.  

 

Mom is gone, too. Maybe. It doesn’t matter. Mia is going to sleep next to her sister - born together, die together. She’s too young to grasp the concept of death fully, to realize they are not going to wake up the next day and go to school and laugh at cartoons and hold hands as they cross the street. Death is just another adventure she hasn’t experienced yet, and Mia would never try something new without Shiloh next to her. 

 

Minutes pass by; screams continue, black snow falls and covers Shiloh’s hair. Mia watches the ash coat her sister’s eyelashes. Patiently waits for them to flutter to life, for her to smile toothily and ask for a piggyback ride home. 

 

Their home is gone. There’s nothing to go back to. Mia breathes shakily, blinking back tears. Throat hoarse from screaming Shiloh’s name, from calling for help. Children don’t think about disaster striking so close to home until it happens, until its too late. They have no plans and there are no explanations that can be give that will ever make sense. 

 

She is lulled to sleep by the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, by the almost soothing cries of those around her; the sounds of people struggling to live and the sounds of people giving in to death. 

 

A shadow falls across her, blocking out the blackened sun so that she’s enveloped in nothing but darkness. 

 

vii. 

 

“Hello.” 

 

He’s resting on his haunches and his voice is calm, comforting. Mia breathes a sigh of relief, knowing she won’t die alone with just her and Shiloh. That historians will look back and remember that there was a Mia and Shiloh Sweet who died together the same day Gotham fell. 

 

He speaks again, murmurs. Mia’s ears ring and she can’t hear anything out of her left. Drifting in and out of consciousness, towards the inevitable end [ ? ]  Where she can hug Shiloh again and feel her arms around her. 

 

-

 

In the blink of an eye she’s sitting upright, in the arms of the monster. Her head rests against his chest; she listens to his heart in her remaining good ear. Reminding her that she’s still ALIVE just as he is, that Shiloh is waiting for her on another plane, all alone. Scared. 

 

Mia’s scared too. Terror envelopes her until she’s numb, until she can’t try to fight him off when he produces a handkerchief from his jacket and dabs at her cheek. Blood trickles from her mouth. Its clinging to her face and pouring from her ear. She doesn’t know it, but he’s terribly annoyed by this. Kids just cannot help themselves, can they? Its in their nature to make messes wherever they go. Yes, he knows this, but it **irritates** him nonetheless.

 

The back of Mia’s skull tingles when he speaks once more; addressing the lifeless girl slowly being buried beneath ashes.

 

“Was _that_ your sister?”

 

Her chest vibrates with every rattling breath. The monster adjusts his grip on the girl slightly, so she’s free to move her head and look one last time, should she choose to do so. Mia doesn’t, she **can’t** look at ~~the body of~~ Shiloh again but she _can_ nod. Loosens her jaw, works the syllable out past her bloodied lips.

 

“Yes.”

 

A low _hum_ from his chest. Such a shame, such a _waste_. The monster rises, the girl still firmly held in his arms, pressed tightly against him. A greedy child with a new, shiny toy. One he does not intend to break. He says, “I had a brother. My twin. He died, as well.” The monster stares into the girl’s eyes, the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips. Mia wants to scratch her eyeballs out just so she’ll never have to see it again.

A beat. He steps over the fallen girl, hands absently running along the last living Sweet’s back. _Comforting_. Its only blood. He’ll get a new suit. He **won’t** get another orphaned twin.

 

“I think I’m going to keep you.”

 

Mia’s mind melts, oozing from between clenched teeth and from her deafened ear. She’s all alone and she knows it. The devastation would have taken her breath away had she the fight left within her. There is nothing now. She arches her back and _sobs_ – he acts as if he cannot hear her.  

 

The monster leaves with a treasure. A bright future lies ahead.

 

viii.

 

Not even ten minutes later, Shiloh Sweet opens her eyes.

 

 


End file.
